Saturday, 15 December 2012

and the award for undateable goes too...


I think I’ve got to that stage where I’m just a bit too comfortable with who I am. I’ve forgotten how to pull the reigns in on the various bits of me that take that little bit longer to tolerate, let alone fall in love with. Don’t get me wrong; I’d never tell anyone to change who they are, it’s just in the competitive dating market, snorting more times than Babe the Pig is perhaps not the way forth.

I’ve also forgotten that there is this whole dating-sphere. People approach me in a club or a bar and I just don’t know how to re-act. A standard on-going joke between me and the close ones is that I snort and run, and I only wish I could say that it wasn’t true. I also wish I could blame it upon the copious amounts of wine I drink, and the alcohol content of various cider brands, cocktails, but instead, I’m just not sure what the hell you’re meant to do, and say.

When drinking, apparently, it’s not acceptable to use your mouth as a hose when something amuses you- showing the person in your company the contents of the cup of tea they’ve just made you, doesn’t make you a hot ticket. Similarly, when eating. No one likes repeat main course.

Bunny jumpers, so I’m told, aren’t cute and endearing. They are, instead, the material banner that screams “single”.
 Time to burn my collection? I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

Samm. xx

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